The woman glanced back at her and grabbed another shirt, then walked it over.
“Here,” she said, tossing Robin the flannel.
Despite the no-nonsense exterior, she had kind, sparkly eyes, and an inviting smile. Robin took it and then looked down at her own shirt, seeing its state. Large tears from branches and the car crash had mangled the fabric, and most of it was covered in blood from her arm.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, still confused.
“I’m Callie,” the woman said.
“Robin.” She watched the others cautiously, still yet to discern their intentions. Everybody was preoccupied, so Robin decided to pull her shirt off quickly and slip the flannel overhead, wincing as her arm moved. The gash was bad, but had seemed to clot, and now felt sticky and dried.
“Sorry about the bruises,” Callie offered, sitting on the arm of the couch, one foot brought up to her chest. She smiled at the fire, warming up.
“Thanks…” Robin said, still unsure. Everybody was acting like this was normal. She was still hung up on the fact that she’d just seen these people turn into wolves and then back again like it was nothing.
The men lumbered around the kitchen, pulling out games and food. Somebody was cooking, but she couldn’t tell what was on the stove.
Robin remained silent and sat down on the old couch, allowing herself a moment to recuperate.
When she opened her eyes, Callie was staring at her.
“What’d he do to you?” she asked.
“What?”
“That strongblood prick,” she said with another laugh.
“Oh,” Robin shrugged. “I… he was taking me to a vampire.”
“Course he was.”
“Glad we stopped him,” one of the frat boys said, setting a plate down on her lap. “From what I hear, he’s taken care of.”
She hadn’t seen him and nearly jumped but managed not to spill the food.
“Tucker, by the way,” he said, already back in the kitchen.
“She’s Robin!” Callie called.
“Thank you, for this,” Robin said, digging in. It was something out of a can, SpaghettiOs, maybe, but it was hot, and she was hungrier than she’d realized. She ate slowly, her muscles hurting from the car wreck.
Callie noticed her wincing. “Sorry about that – we thought that Ryker dude was still in the car.”
“Reykon,” she mumbled.
Callie shrugged.
The thought of Reykon made her realize something that Tucker mentioned. “You said he was taken care of…”
“Last we heard,” the bigger man said halfway through a bite. “Clay had him strung up like a spring chicken.”
The other man laughed at this and cracked open a beer.
Robin nodded, finishing her food in silence. She had no clue who this ‘Clay’ was but was up to her fill trying to organize all the new players she was learning about. Forget figuring out the good guys and bad guys. Robin’s head had been in a constant tornado ever since she’d learned about the vampires and the strongbloods.
She should have been relieved that Reykon was out of the picture, because it meant there was nobody to take her to Magnus. But the thought of him, tied up, surrounded by wolves… she found herself feeling not only guilt, but sadness.
And also, disbelief.
Reykon was the smartest person (at least, when it came to this stuff) she’d ever encountered in her life.
Even imagining him surrounded by an army, she felt certain he’d find some way out of it. That thought both comforted her and set her teeth on edge. Despite his kindness, so far, and whatever guilt she was feeling, she knew for certain that he had no feelings for her other than impatience, and now, probably anger. He worked for Magnus. He would do anything to bring her there, to the man that wanted to do god knew what with her.
Reykon was her enemy.
My enemy, she repeated to herself, hoping it would stick this time.
She finished the plate and handed it off to Callie. From the kitchen, she called back to her. “You should lay down. We’ll just wait here until Clay comes.”
Robin nodded. She was out before her head even hit the cushion.
Lucidia
Needless to say, things were taking a shit turn for her.
Lucidia felt the anger brimming up again. “You let him go?” she demanded.
Clay’s voice was angry, jarring her ear over the phone. “We didn’t have a choice. Hannah would have died. We barely got her to sleep in time.”
At least she’d been able to kick into hibernation, the supernatural healing sleep for werewolves, before things were too bad. But still, it threw a severe wrench in Lucidia’s works.
“Where did they take Robin?”
“One of the safe houses,” Clay said. “I haven’t been in contact.”
She rubbed her forehead in frustration. “Which safehouse?”
“Did you hear me? I don’t know.”
“Find out, Clay,” she spat.
He let out a string of grumbled curses and hung up.
Lucidia stared at the phone in her own anger, simmering from the cliff-side viewpoint where she looked at the Colorado countryside. She could see the lights of Grand Junction, a long way off. To the east, the lights were sparser, covered by the thick woods of the Rocky Mountains. She glanced at the tires on her bike. They’d probably be fine. If not… Well, she’d burn that bridge when she crossed over it.
A minute later, Clay called her back. She answered before the first ring even got through.
“Where?”
“They have her at Uncle Ricky’s cabin. It’s Northeast from you, by about sixty miles.”
Lucidia glanced at the dark forest cover and narrowed her eyes. “And they have her?”
“Yes.”
She found a pit spreading out in her stomach. “Is she okay?” Immediately after asking the question, she felt stupid. What did it matter if the girl was okay, as long as she was breathing? Lucidia had never before been concerned about her assignments’ wellbeing.
Robin’s not just another assignment, she thought. Robin was something else, something more. Her sister? That was ridiculous; she’d never even met the girl before. She’d probably run screaming the other way when she got
